


Wrecked

by embeer2004



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Caring, Dubious Consent, Established Relationship, Loving partners, M/M, Non-Consensual Bondage, after this Regis is all A+ would do again, because of, mind control spell, without the mind control though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-31 23:10:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,715
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20248192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/embeer2004/pseuds/embeer2004
Summary: Someone put a mind control spell on Geralt, a spell, apparently meant to make Regis a shuddering mess.





	Wrecked

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Baptism in Blood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16200242) by [TrueTattoo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TrueTattoo/pseuds/TrueTattoo). 

> This fic was inspired by TrueTattoo’s Baptism in Blood and I’ve borrowed a part of their head-canon for this.

“No… Geralt…” Regis wheezed, “please, I beg you, release me.”  
  
Currently the vampire was completely naked and tied to the headboard by a pair of cuffs made from a very particular metal, the only kind that could prevent him from shifting into one of his alternate forms. He wondered for a second how Geralt had obtained this particular set and why he was doing this; only a second though, for when he finally obtained a glimpse of his lover’s face he noticed the dull haze that had overtaken Geralt’s beautiful golden eyes.  
  
Mind control.  
  
Regis’ mouth felt dry as he tried to swallow around the lump that had formed in his throat. Only a sorcerer or sorceress had the power required to achieve such a feat, and that meant…  
  
Fringilla.  
__  
Somehow that vile sorceress had put a spell on his mate, but what did she hope to gain by this? Geralt had been able to shake off her magic before, their first time visiting Beauclair, and again recently when they encountered her here and had learnt of her role in this whole plot with the plague. Geralt could shake off her spell, Regis was sure of it.  
  
“Geralt, please…” Regis said calmly. “Fight it, love. I know you are not yourself. Think of _us, _feel my love for you. You can do this, dear heart.”  
  
Geralt smiled, but the emotion didn’t reach his eyes. He climbed up on the bed and knelt next to him, still fully dressed. The witcher’s hands moved towards Regis’ captured ones and softly stroked the sensitive patagium between his fingers.  
  
Regis shivered and breathed out harshly. That… was intense. Swallowing again, he curled his fingers, trying to grasp Geralt’s; to both still them and to _feel _his lover. Perhaps he could get through to him?  
  
“That…” Regis breathed, “is quite sensitive, as you well know.”  
  
Without warning, Geralt’s mouth crushed into his, kissing him harshly, tongue swirling, no, _warring_, within his mouth, and his teeth, his small witcher fangs, nipped his lower lip.  
  
Regis could have bitten him in return, but the feel of those familiar lips and that sweet warmth was just too good and besides, the tiny punctures on his lip had already healed. Closing his eyes, he hummed softly, feeling a glowing heat flare through his body, encompassing him fully.  
  
Geralt’s hands trailed down his arms and moved towards his chest, gently stroking over his nipples before moving towards his sides, touching the sensitive vestiges of patagium that remained even while he was in his human form. His lover started lightly stroking the thin membrane lining his sides, being oh so very careful.  
  
Regis’ body nearly shot off the bed when Geralt suddenly pinched them and Regis felt a cold sweat appear on his brow. His breathing sped up and he would have head-butted his lover harshly if Geralt hadn’t reacted and pushed him down on the bed, a smirk on his lips.  
  
“Regis,” Geralt said slowly, lethargic, clearly having difficulty with speech. The haze covering his eyes lifted. “Call… Dett-” He trailed off, golden eyes becoming dull again. Shifting, he climbed on top of Regis and settled himself on the vampire’s belly, his knees squeezing against his sides, holding him tight. Regis winced as his wing membranes got squashed.  
  
Geralt leaned down and, in a mockery of their usual shows of affection, harshly rubbed his nose against his; then he stuck out his tongue and licked Regis’ cheek. Geralt reached for his captured hands again and pulled, dragging Regis’ hands up as far as the cuffs allowed, and started licking between Regis’ fingers.  
  
If his lover hadn’t been under mind control, and if he would only use just a lighter touch, Regis wouldn’t mind doing this again, but now the setting was all wrong, wrong, _wrong_! “What’s…” he panted, trying to move up so he could press a kiss against Geralt’s chin… no luck though, Geralt scooted a bit higher, as he kept on fondling his membranes. “Urgh… G-Geralt… what?”  
  
Dettlaff… Geralt had said to call for Dettlaff. Regis felt along the bond he shared with the young vampire, the bond that had formed ever since Dettlaff had given him his blood so he could regenerate…  
  
His lover’s tongue curling around his ear distracted Regis. He eagerly turned his head, and this time he was swift enough to brush his lips against the side of Geralt’s nose before the witcher pulled away.  
  
What was this? If Fringilla was behind this there was a reason for her sending Geralt after him and making him do this. Just what was she plotting?  
  
There was a slight pull and, blinking, Regis came back to himself a bit. Shivers wracked through his body and he felt cold, though he knew it had nothing to do with the temperature inside. Oh, how he wished Geralt would shake off the control already and just get undressed and lie with him, warming him up. His lover _was _so nicely warm…  
  
Out of nowhere, Geralt jerked upright and furiously whipped his head about, squeezing his eyes shut. He flung himself off the bed and grasped his temples, tightly pressing his lips together.  
  
“Geralt!” Startled, Regis tried to sit up, but the way he was tied to the headboard made that impossible. “What’s going on? Speak to me, _fight it_!”  
  
“Hnnngg.” Geralt moaned, his breathing speeding up. He stumbled backwards until his back hit the wall and then he slid to the ground, his limbs twitching.  
  
That was when Regis noticed the goblet lying on the floor, its contents upturned, and a vague piece of memory floated back to him. He remembered drinking from it… Geralt had returned earlier and had poured them both some wine. He’d been silent as he had offered a goblet to Regis, but it had been late and Geralt had been out and about… Regis had assumed he’d been tired. And then…  
  
He’d woken up here.  
  
“Geralt!” Regis barked and immediately winced at his own tone; he hadn’t meant to shout at his lover. “Dear heart… feel our bond. You can sense it, I know this. Focus on it and use it as an anchor to shake off her spell.”  
  
With a snarl, Geralt’s body jerked upwards, and, with awkward jerking movements, stumbled back to the bed. He crawled back on top of Regis and harshly pressed his shoulders against the mattress.  
  
Seeing the red colour that Geralt’s pupils had turned into, Regis froze.  
  
Geralt snarled loudly, revealing his small but sharp fangs and, with a shuddering movement, settled his teeth over Regis’ neck, right over a particular vulnerable point.  
  
Regis stopped breathing completely, too afraid to move and provoke Geralt into doing something he would regret forever; even if Regis would likely survive him tearing at his throat.  
  
They stayed like that for what seemed like forever. Geralt’s fangs rested against his skin and he nibbled Regis’ neck lightly before a warm tongue came out, swirling over the flesh Geralt held captive.  
  
And then… and Regis had no idea how much time had passed, Geralt let go of Regis’ neck and he looked up at him with confused and tired eyes.  
  
“Regis?” Geralt whispered, and it sounded like someone had slashed at his vocal chords. He tried to lift himself off of Regis, but his arms trembled too wildly and he crashed down on top of him, his body twitching.  
  
“Geralt!” Regis reached out to embrace his lover, cursing when the cuffs around his wrists held him back. “Geralt, please!” Fear started clawing at his chest and Regis felt a panic rising up in him.  
  
“Hnng…” Geralt groaned and, with a great amount of effort, his lover’s hand came up and settled on his chest, stroking just above his heart. “Just… gimme… moment…” he forced out.  
  
“Look at me, Geralt!” Regis implored, fearful for his mate.  
  
Geralt nuzzled into his chest before awkwardly twisting his head up and Regis was glad to see the golden eyes back to normal, no longer dulled, and emotion too had returned to them.  
  
With what seemed to be an immense amount of effort, Geralt moved his arm up and started fiddling with one of the cuffs around Regis’ wrists, freeing him, before collapsing on top of him. Regis noticed that his eyes were still open; Geralt was still conscious, just completely worn out.  
  
Quickly, Regis twisted around, taking care not to dislodge Geralt from on top of him and dump him to the floor, and freed his other hand, before enveloping his lover within his arms.  
  
“It’s all right now,” he said softly, stroking the back of Geralt’s neck. “You did it.”  
  
Geralt’s nose nuzzled against his neck and he blinked slowly. “T’red…”  
  
Squeezing his lover just a bit harder, taking care not to squeeze _too _hard, Regis lowered his head and rubbed his cheek over Geralt’s crown. “You rest now, dear heart…”  
  
A small sigh, and Geralt drifted off to sleep.  
  
Regis really wanted to know how and why what had happened just a few moments ago had happened, but it had to wait. The tingling that had settled in his body from Geralt’s earlier ministrations was only now dwindling down and his lover was completely wrecked, trembling slightly as he slept.  
  
Regis would do everything in his power to get to the bottom of this whole situation. Fringilla was involved, he was sure of it, but she had help, the cuffs were proof of that.  
  
Geralt shifted slightly and a frown settled on his brow. Regis blinked, realising he’d been growling under his breath; a response to his mate being threatened and abused.  
  
He reached over and gently stroked Geralt’s temple, creating soothing circles against the skin.  
  
For now, they would both get some sleep and recover, but Regis would be sure to keep a sense out for anything unusual. He felt Dettlaff pulling on the bond and he got the impression that his brother was getting closer, the young vampire must have become worried by what he’d sensed earlier.  
  
Regis smiled, and it was not a pleasant smile, but one that a predator would give a cornered prey. He’d wait until Dettlaff had arrived and they’d gotten some rest. And then…  
  
The three of them would hunt together…  
  
**The end **  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Regis didn’t really mind Geralt doing what he did to him, he was too worried for his lover though and wishing this could have been done while he hadn’t been under a mind control spell.


End file.
